


with golden string (our universe was clothed in light)

by hellfirehot



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Injury, but this was mostly my excuse to make these idiots finally talk to each other, there's some fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellfirehot/pseuds/hellfirehot
Summary: kara’s been a little too reckless ever since the crisis, until one night she finds herself injured and bleeding at the safest place she could think of: lena’s balconyorthe one where kara and lena finally talk it all out
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 65
Kudos: 1134





	with golden string (our universe was clothed in light)

**Author's Note:**

> is this almost 10k words of self-indulgence? absolutely
> 
> do i have any regrets? nope

Kara’s fine, really.

No. Seriously, she’s _fine_. Nevermind the bruises blooming over her body, or the blood pounding in her ears or the burning, burning, _burning_ sensation creeping through her ribs like ice cold fire. And her head… the blast of blue light hadn’t connected with her skull at any point, but her thoughts were suddenly thick and hazy. Kara blows out a breath, collecting herself. Injured, a little rattled, but she’s fine.

She’s standing. That’s _enough_.

Except her knees are shaking as she stumbles from the crater marking the place she’d crashed into the ground. The pain blooming in her chest is almost enough to wind her, radiating outwards and pulsing with each beat of her heart. She spares a quick glance at her hands to find that they’re shaking ever-so-slightly, and suddenly she’s regretting how reckless she’s been tonight. Storming into a fight, not waiting for the DEO to brief her, she’s still aware enough to understand that these are rookie mistakes. The alien above her stares down at her with a calculating expression, smelling blood in the water, sensing a turn in the tide. A sudden sureness that they now have the upper hand. Kara knows she’s in danger, and so do they.

But she’s standing, that should be enough.

Maybe it’s not enough though, maybe not this time. Because the alien cannon is charging again high above her in the hands (talons?) of her alien adversary. The device glows a sharp, electric blue that signals it’s about to fire again. And she’s only just staggered to her feet.

She clenches her fist, and shoots skyward again just as the weapon is fully charged. Her fist connects with it as it fires.

Her last clear thought, before the cannon shatters and a blinding explosion of blue light overcomes both her and her opponent, is that perhaps she’s not so fine after all.

  
///

  
Kara doesn’t know where she is or where she’s flying, not exactly. Her thoughts are like mud, thick and slow and sloppy, getting clogged up in her head and she tries to parsel them out, but something pulls her onward to a place she knows is safe.

She doesn’t realize she’s been steadily dropping from the sky until she’s suddenly straining with the effort to stay above the skyscrapers rather than crash into them. She’s close, she’s so close, she just has to hold on for a few more moments. The screaming in her ribs, the pounding in her head and the hazy fog enveloping her... they’re almost enough to send her crashing to the ground again, but she pushes on because she knows how close she is now.

There it is, the safe place: a building just now coming into her line of sight, rising high into the sky with the LCorp logo emblazoned on the side. _Lena_. Her thoughts slow further, but her best friend’s name stays clear against the slew of confusion settling over her.

With a last burst of speed, Kara just manages to grab hold of the balcony railing before her flight gives out. She’s only just managed to bodily haul herself over the edge before her strength follows suit, and she’s left trembling on the floor of the balcony. Kara lays there, sprawled on her back, to collect herself for a few seconds before slowly but surely raising herself up a few inches. Time to survey the damage.

Her abdomen and chest are burning from whatever energy that weapon had expelled, and she strongly suspects pieces of the thing embedded themselves in her during the explosion, if the pain shooting through her with every movement is anything to go by.

_Stay calm_ , Kara manages to tell herself, trying to will away the fear clawing at her insides along with the shrapnel of the alien cannon. She touches a hand to her abdomen and it comes away dripping with red.

She drags herself a few inches at a time toward the balcony door. It is only after several agonizing minutes of this, when her back is pressed up against the glass and her hand is fumbling weakly at a door handle that won’t budge, does her addled brain take in the darkness of the office.

Lena’s not there. No one is. She’s alone.

In perhaps a last act of clarity, Kara manages to find her phone in her suit. Her fingers slide over the cracked screen and click the name she needs. Her breaths are coming in harsh and raspy now, and as the haze overtakes her mind she no longer has the wherewithal to push back against the fear.

The phone rings.

  
///

  
The clock reads 1:22am.

Lena’s been typing away at her laptop for hours, long past when every other employee had gone home. She might’ve even kept at it, but she’d downed the last of the office’s supply of coffee several hours ago. She’s loath to admit it but, as Sam would put it, she exists purely off caffeine and spite. With plenty of one but not the other to fuel her, she decides to call it a night.

She’s nearly at the lobby when her cell phone rings and she finds herself stopped dead at the name on the screen. _Kara Danvers_ , accompanied by a goofy selfie the blonde had taken after stealing her phone. A dozen emotions flicker across Lena’s face before she schools her expression into a classic Luthor scowl, despite no one actually being around to see it.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s nearly 1:30 in the morning, or that Kara hasn’t called her in weeks -- hasn’t even attempted to, as per Lena’s express wishes -- but Lena doesn’t immediate reject the call. She hesitates briefly, and just before the call goes to voicemail she finds her thumb tapping “Accept”. Lena presses the phone to her ear, unsure what to expect.

“This better be important, Supergirl,” Lena drawls, but she forgets her indifference when she hears the labored breathing at the other end.

“Lena?” Kara gasps.

“Kara, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Lena asks sharply, and something that feels a lot like fear shoots through her when she hears coughing over the line, the telltale splatter of blood expelling from lungs, and a low grunt of pain.

“Didn’t… know where to go…” Kara slurs slowly. “Messed up, bad.”

“Kara, tell me where you are.”

“Was careless,” Kara continues as if Lena hadn’t spoken. Her words sounded strange and confused, like she wasn’t fully aware of herself or what was happening to her. “Stupid… so stupid.”

“That’s okay, Kara, just tell me where you are,” Lena implores, anxiety tightening her chest like a coil. “Please, where are you?”

“Office… your balcony,” Kara says, breathy and quiet.

“I’m on my way up. I have to hang up to call your sister but I promise I will be there in a minute,” Lena says quickly, already thumbing through her contacts. “Stay with me, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” Kara whispers. “Okay.”

  
///

  
Kara doesn’t know how long she sits there against the glass door. Time feels… wrong. It stretches on in unnatural ways, until it’s as vast as the sky above her. The moon is full and reflecting the sun’s light down on her body, but she gleans no strength from its rays. She feels like she’s been limp and bleeding on this balcony for hours, peering up at the great expanse above her.

It tickles something in the back of her mind, an inkling of a memory. A game she’d play with her aunt when she was small and impatient at how busy her parents both were. On nights when Alura and Jor worked late and Astra sat with her by her window, telling stories using the stars. Sometimes they were fantasy, with the constellations as characters. Sometimes they were Kryptonian legends, of heros that journeyed across the galaxy fighting evils of all kinds. And some were histories of individual star systems. Astra would point one out and tell her about the people who live there until she finally fell asleep. The perfect remedy to console a four-year-old missing her parents. In her haze, though, she forgets why this night sky is so different to Krypton’s. She can’t connect the dots, can’t remember it’s a different sky altogether, and the confusion it sets off is almost as consuming as the fear riding alongside it.

Her body is on fire, her breathing comes in labored rasps, and the chill night air sends shivers coursing through her. In this moment she can’t quite rationalize to herself that she’s going to be okay.

She tries to remember a story from those days on Krypton, one of the ones Astra told her as she wrapped a soft blanket tightly around her niece. Instead, her gaze settles on one familiar little red star shining over a dead system of planets, and the only story that comes to mind is her own. She wonders, for a moment, if she would end up another Kryptonian legend. Another story, told to the fretful children of Argo.

Before she can deliberate on that, the balcony door she’s leaning against opens behind her and a warm set of hands are grasping her, guiding her body gently to the floor.

  
///

  
Lena has only just hung up the phone with Alex when she’s rushing into her office.

The sight of Kara on her balcony, red cape pressed against the glass of her office’s balcony door, hands clutching her gut and sitting beside a smeared trail of blood leading from the balcony railing and along the floor up to her body, is enough to make the hairs over Lena’s entire body stand on end. She rushes forward, opening the door and easing the Kryptonian to the floor.

“Lena?” Kara gasps out, face scrunching in confusion and pain at the movement. Then she smiles dazedly up at the brunette, rasping out a, “Fancy seeing you here,” before giggling.

Lena looks Kara up and down, taking everything in. She’s paler than Lena has ever seen her. Multiple burn marks cover the front of the supersuit, right over the glyph and spreading lower, down to her belt. Lena notices several things at once. The blood on her abdomen that’s soaking through the material of the suit. The way her body is trembling in a way Lena’s never seen before. The almost vacant look in the blonde’s eyes as she peers up at Lena with half-hooded lids and a goofy grin that disappears as a round of intense shivering wracks her body. Lena can do little more than shrug off her own coat and gently wrap it around her former friend, hoping it can provide some small bit of warmth. Lena tries not to think about the fact that Kara is probably going into shock at this very moment.

“I called the DEO, they’ll be here soon,” Lena says, trying to muster some semblance of reassurance to her face.

“Cold,” is Kara’s response as she shivers again, letting out a whimper as the movement jostles some very obvious internal injuries.

“I know,” is all Lena can say. Kara’s eyelids start to droop closed, and Lena has to restrain herself from shaking Kara to keep her awake. “Hey! I need you to stay awake for me, Kara.”

“Tired,” Kara mumbles, but obediently opens her eyes wider.

“Talk to me.”

Kara hums, then frowns. “Messed up. Was too reckless.”

Lena bites her lip, wondering how she got to this point. Ten minutes ago she would’ve been grateful if Kara never darkened her doorstep again, now she has a confused and bleeding Kryptonian laying on her office floor before her and in need of comfort.

She takes Kara’s cold and trembling hands in her own, relieved to find hers steady.

“You did your best,” is what Lena ends up saying, then cringes at her own pitiful attempt at reassurance. Kara, however, just _smiles_ up at her like she’s the shiniest star in the sky, brighter than the sun. “Just keep talking, Kara.”

Kara’s eyes go in and out of focus as she says, “What do you wanna talk about? Could… tell you about flying for the first time. Or… about my old cat Streaky. Hey... did I ever tell you… ‘bout when I died?”

“Excuse me?” Lena says even as she feels her entire body stiffen. What the hell was Kara talking about? But Kara, not one to be distracted in what Lena suspects to be increasing delirium, forges ahead.

“President Baker was an asshat,” Kara says sagely, nodding her head perhaps too nonchalantly for the topic she was so cavalierly discussing.

“What?”

“Oh yeah, he kidnapped me a little when I went to the White House. Was a whole thing.”

Lena doesn’t know what to make of this information, and she doesn’t think she’ll get a coherent recount of it from the Kryptonian in the condition she’s currently in. Lena can’t follow whatever line of logic Kara’s brain is taking, she just knows she has to keep her awake and talking.

“What happened?” Lena asks, but Kara’s eyes are unfocused and Lena can tell the story is already slipping away from her.

“When... um...” Kara pauses, like her train of thought had crashed for a second, before the words evidently came back to her. “When he tried to silence me... Red Daughter was there. There was Kryptonite, but I got away.”

Lena gets the feeling that this is a massive over-simplification of the story, but she prompts Kara further. “And then?”

“I… I can’t…” Kara hums quietly, her voice drifting away as her eyes start to drift closed again. Lena taps her cheeks lightly, rousing her again.

“Please darling, you have to stay awake for me.”

“You called me darling,” Kara whispers in absolute awe.

Lena knows that Kara isn’t totally in control of her facial expressions right now, so she tries not to read too closely into the open adoration painted across the other woman’s face. And then, before Lena can wonder whether it was a good idea to let a confused Kara confront the reality of her own mortality -- or before Lena can confront Kara’s mortality herself for that matter -- by attempting to rehash what must be a painful story while she’s laying here cold and bleeding, Kara’s body is overcome by a series of coughs. They leave her wheezing as blood dribbles from the corner of the blonde’s mouth. Lena can do little but hold her hands tighter, whispering reassurances and wondering where the hell the DEO medevac team is. As Kara’s body relaxes from the coughing fit, her eyes droop closed again and Lena, for the first time that night, begins to wonder if this is it. If all the awfulness between them has culminated into this, Lena holding Kara’s hand as she dies.

“Stay awake,” Lena implores, her voice betraying her fear. “You’ll be okay, you hear me? You are going to be fine.”

Kara blinks her eyes open heavily. “’m always fine,” she slurs, before consciousness is lost on her entirely and her eyes roll back into her head.

“No! Wake up, please!” Lena shouts in vain. “I’m not done with you yet! You don’t get to check out, not like this, not when things are still --”

She’s cut off abruptly by the blessed sound of -- fucking _finally_ \-- elevators doors opening in the hallway and quick footsteps coming their way.

“ _Alex_ ,” Lena breathes.

A team of agents, led by Director Danvers, push a gurney into the office and Lena finds herself shunted aside as the team goes to work. The director is barking out orders and Supergirl is situated gently onto the gurney by the agents. Alex, never pausing, spares Lena a brief but grateful glance that speaks volumes before gesturing for Lena to follow if she so wishes, before the lot of them are running Kara back to the elevator. Lena, of course, sticks as close as she can without getting in the way. In the elevators, Alex’s hands cup Kara’s head gently and she looks up at Lena.

“We lost her location after the fight went down, been trying to find her ever since. She usually reports back to the DEO immediately, but this time--” she shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it. “Thank you, Lena. Truly.”

Alex’s voice is as vulnerable as Lena has ever heard it, and the look she gives the Luthor is raw and full of all the emotions still stuck between all of them. Between Lena and all her former friends. In this moment, Lena can push aside the “former” for however long this tentative thing has its grip on them.

  
///

  
When Kara blinks her eyes open blearily to the bright light of the DEO, Alex is slumped back against a chair next to her with her hand still holding Kara’s loosely. Then as Kara shifts slightly to raise herself from the bed, hissing at the pain it causes, Alex’s eyes fly open and she’s hovering over Kara in an instant. She pushes down gently on Kara’s shoulders.

“Woah, easy there. You still need to rest,” Alex says.

“How long have I been out?” Kara asks.

“Only the one night this time. You sustained extensive injuries from the shrapnel of that weapon exploding, in addition to the burns caused by the unique energy output of the cannon. You’re powers will probably be out for at least a few days, maybe longer,” Alex replies. “Lena was here. She just left an hour ago to go home and shower, but she said she’d be back.”

“Lena?” Kara asks, bleary and confused, before the memories flood back in. Landing on the balcony, talking to her ex-best friend. Passing out with the ghost of Lena’s touch still echoing through her. “ _Lena_. Shit.”

“She just wanted to know how you’re doing, Kara,” Alex says kindly. “I would too, actually.”

The tone of Alex’s voice implies much more than just a simple interest in her injuries. Kara can practically feel herself closing off in preparation for where the conversation is heading, and so must Alex because she jumps on it.

“You gave us a real scare, Kara. Rushing into that fight like that, without letting the DEO give you a run down. It’s not like you, Kara.”

“Don’t I usually get a few minutes before you start on this?” is Kara’s tired reply. She doesn’t miss the way her sister bites her lip nervously, and she tries to push back at the guilt that courses through her because she _knows_ Alex. She knows Alex doesn’t get anxious like this unless she’s really, truly, _deeply_ worried for the people she loves.

“This is your third injury in two weeks,” Alex says, like it’s that simple.

New strategy: deflection. “The other ones don’t count, they were just bruises,” Kara says, which she knows is maybe not the most genius form of deflection considering she’s technically not _supposed_ to bruise, but the words are already out of her mouth, so.

“Kara, please.”

Kara looks at Alex, really looks at her, and notices for the first time the bags under her eyes. The way her fingers tremble slightly as she pulls Kara’s hands closer to her body like she’s afraid Kara might slip away. That, combined with the haunted look she’s boring into the Kryptonian, is what shakes Kara.

“I can’t lose you,” Alex says against the stifling few seconds of silence. “I’m _really_ afraid for you with the way you’ve been acting.”

“Alex, I’m tired,” is her response, because she doesn’t have it in her to do this right now.

“No, I’m worried. I don’t expect you to not put yourself in harm’s way, Kara, but there’s a right and a wrong way to do it! You can’t just run in all half-cocked--”

“I know, Alex! I know I fucked up! You don’t have to keep reminding me!” she shouts, voice hoarse as she moves to sit up. Kara surprises even herself with her outburst, but it’s short lived as the movement sends stabs of pain and Alex is once again smoothing her back into the bed.

“Sorry, sorry.” Alex’s words are loving, gentle. It just makes Kara all the more irate, but she contains herself with a few breaths, in and out. She’s almost calm when Alex speaks again, with an edge of unsurety to her voice. “Have… have you thought about what I suggested the other night?”

Kara lets out a breath, pulling her hands away from her sister. Alex instantly creates space between them and Kara almost regrets instigating it.

“I don’t have time to see some shrink, Alex. Between work, and Supergirl, and everything,” she whispers without an ounce of fight. “I don’t want to talk about this again.”

“When are we going to talk about it, then?” Alex is imploring in her words. Kara tries not to notice the shine to her eyes. “When are we going to talk, Kara? _Really_ talk?”

“Talk.” There’s something new in Kara’s voice. She can hear it, can feel it, and she knows she should stop herself now but Rao, she really doesn’t even want to hold back this time. “Talk about what exactly? About losing everything again? About everything and everyone I love disappearing from existence? About how before even all that, my sister used me to hurt someone else I love? Because if it’s all the same to you, Alex, I’d rather be left alone.”

She’s lying, she never wants to be alone these days. She had enough of that when the multiverse disappeared. And, at the devastated look on Alex’s face, she very nearly reconsiders her request for solitude. Alex, though, just gets up and walks to the door, pausing just before leaving.

“I’m here, whenever you need me,” she says, then, “and I need you to know we’re going to get through this. You are going to get through this.” Then she turns to go.

“Wait!” Kara finds herself shouting. “I’m… I’m sorry. It’s been hard, with everything… and with, you know, Lena. Just give me some time, please.”

Kara remembers at that moment why Alex is her favorite person on the planet. On every planet. Because Alex just smiles at her like she’s everything decent in the world and not like Kara just bit her head off.

“Whatever you need, I just need you to be safe,” Alex tells her from the door. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

Alex, sensing Kara’s need for a few minutes of space, walks away still smiling with all the love in the world on her face like she’s trying to make Kara feel it too. She probably is, but it’s not that simple. Kara thinks Alex is coming back a few minutes later when she hears footsteps approaching the door, until she realizes that the click clack on the tiled floor doesn’t match Alex’s booted footsteps. She looks up, only to find one Lena Luthor strolling past the glass walls and into her room, hesitating only once she’s inside.

“Lena,” Kara breathes, stunned as if Alex hadn’t already warned her Lena was coming back.

“You’re okay?” Lena asks, and Kara really can’t get a read on the tone of her voice. Happy that Kara is alive? Indifferent since this doesn’t actually change anything between them? She used to be able to read Lena so well, but the brunette’s old walls are back up and Kara feels like a stranger. Maybe she is.

“I’m always okay,” is what Kara finally says. She doesn’t think this is necessarily the _right_ thing to say, but in her defense, she’s only been awake all of ten minutes. Lena seems to deliberate something for a moment, before walking quickly up to the bedside and planting herself in the chair Alex had previously occupied.

“This is me, Kara.” Lena says it like it’s obvious. “You don’t have to lie,” -- Kara _flinches_ at that and it’s unspoken accusation like she’s been struck, but Lena keeps speaking past it -- “Alex told me you’ve had it hard since the crisis.”

“Yeah… well,” Kara begins, but finds she doesn’t know what to say. Alex was one thing, she can talk circles around her sister for as long as she needs to get the redhead to back off just long enough until the next round. Lena is a different story, though. She doesn’t know how to lie here and tell Lena that she’s fine when she’s really, really not. Kara yearns for the time when she could lean into her best friend during her struggles. She’s not allowed to do that anymore though, not with Lena (or anyone,really), and the reality of it brings unexpected tears to her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Lena asks, eyes frantically searching for the source of Kara’s tears, and it only makes them come on stronger.

“I’m okay, I’m just… I’m really tired.”

“I can go if you want to sleep or--” Lena says immediately, standing and adjusting her pencil skirt awkwardly. Kara finds her hand moving of its own accord, grasping hers tightly. She considers pulling it back, afraid it was too much and that it might scare Lena away, but Lena simply sits back in the chair. She holds Kara’s hand, maybe a bit awkwardly, but not rejecting the touch.

“Please, stay,” Kara says around a genuine yawn. She wasn’t lying about being tired.

“I wanted to talk with you, but it can wait until you’re well,” Lena tells her gently. Her eyes contain a glimmer of hesitation before she continues. “I can stay here for as long as you want.”

Kara smiles, her eyes drooping. She’s always shocked by how the exhaustion can come for her so quickly in moments like this, when she’s just woken up from some battle and her body is contending with the grueling process of knitting itself back together at speeds a human body could never manage. Even with the sunbed rays instilling their healing strength into her cells, sleep is beginning to creep back up to her. With the fatigue, her words feel much more slippery in her mouth as she responds to Lena.

“Want you to stay,” Kara slurs. “I’m sorry for showing up on your balcony and scaring you. Sorry for a lot of things.”

“I know,” Lena replies. “We can talk about all that when you’re feeling better. Just rest now.”

“Missed you,” Kara whispers, inhibitions all but gone as she blinks her eyes closed. She doesn’t hear a response, but she thinks she feels Lena squeeze her hands lightly as she drifts off into the dark again.

  
///

  
It’s two nights later, after Kara is discharged from the DEO medbay -- powers still out but her injuries more or less healed -- that she opens her door to find Lena standing on the other side in her apartment’s hallway, still wearing one of her signature three piece suit like she’d only just gotten away from the office even though it’s nearly 10:00pm. Knowing Lena, this is actually an early night for her. Kara steps aside to let her in, and Lena does so without a word.

Kara tugs at the sleeves of the sweater she’s wearing, which covers the extensive bruising and burns that still remain after the DEO sunbeds helped knit her insides back together. She feels strong, though, knowing this isn’t _nearly_ the worst injury she’s sustained on the job. Still, she doesn’t miss the way Lena scans her up and down for evidence of the injuries. Kara doesn’t think she imagines the haunted look in her eyes, and can guess why it’s there.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through that, Lena,” Kara says. “You should’ve never been in that position. I should’ve gone to the DEO when I got hurt, but I was just so disoriented after the fight.” Lena only sighs, like she was expecting this from Kara.

“If you think I’m going to hold that against you, Kara, you really don’t know me at all.”

Lena says it without malice, without any kind of hate or anger or any of the emotions that’s been between them these last weeks, but Kara can’t feeling as if she’d been slapped in the face. She doesn’t flinch though. After all, it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it. Lena, on the other hand, looks forlorn.

“Sorry. I told myself I wasn’t going to be snappish,” Lena says, surprising Kara with the apology.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Maybe not, but I am anyway.”

A heavy, awkward silence settles over them then as they take up residence on Kara’s sofa. Kara doesn’t want to stare, really she doesn’t, but she can’t help but drink Lena in. She’s seen her so little in these last few weeks that having her here, in her apartment and right in front of her, well… She doesn’t want to say it feels like an elaborate joke, because that would be totally paranoid and stuff. She’s just saying if she pinched herself right now she wouldn’t be surprised to find herself waking up, alone and surrounded by the dark, with all this being another flimsy dream.

She should probably take Alex up on that therapy suggestion.

“I really don’t know how to start this conversation,” Lena finally breaks the silence, “so I’m just… going to start.”

She takes a breath, clearly collecting herself, and Kara prepares herself. There’s no animosity in Lena’s voice when she begins to speak. She just sounds sad, which is somehow so much worse.

“For months, I’ve been trying to reconcile the idea of you in my head as Kara with my idea of Supergirl. That you aren’t two separate people, but the same person. I’ve been _trying_ , Kara, but there’s so much to process there,” Lena says, voice tired and full of so much grief. “No matter how you spin it, it has all been a great lie. You interacted with me as two separate people, do you not understand how inherently deceptive that is?”

Kara nods, her head bowed in shame. Because, really, she’s thought about this a lot. Not just over the past weeks since their falling out. For years she’s known what she was doing to Lena. And now, with all her mistakes laid bare before her, she has no defense against the truth of it. She made a wrong decision a long time ago not to come clean the moment she knew Lena could be fully trusted with the secret, and she’s made the same wrong decision ever since out of her fear of the loss it might bring. That’s not an excuse, though. There is no excuse for any of it.

“I understand the logic of Supergirl needing to protect her secret identity, but that didn’t give you the right to do what you did,” Lena says, harsh but not cold. Kara can feel the pain dripping from the brunette’s voice, hates herself for putting it there. “I grew up in a complex web of lies and faced deceit and betrayal at every turn, and you knew that. Yet you still chose to pedal yourself as two different people to me, used one against me while simultaneously pretending to support me --”

“ _No_ , Lena, I wasn’t pretending to support you, I _swear_ \--” but at Lena’s scathing glare, Kara shut up.

“I trusted you. Completely. Without any qualms, any misgivings or regrets. But you betrayed me anyway. Kept your identity from me, yes, but you also used your identity against me. I thought you were my friend, but I don’t even know who you are.” Lena says it like an accusation, one that Kara knows she wholeheartedly deserves. Kara will not defend herself against this. Any attempt to excuse or justify would be a slap in the face to Lena. Instead, following a long period of silence, she says exactly what she’s wanted to say for weeks.

“You’re right.”

It’s a whisper, a confession against the darkness that’s been clawing inside her all this time. She says it like it’s simple and not the most devastating thing, like it didn’t mean she was a lying hypocrite. It sparks something further, though. When the words come to Kara this time, she starts to speak and doesn’t stop because she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Lena really never wants to see her again after this.

“When I met you, it was just one lightbulb moment after another, after another,” Kara begins, like she’s telling a story. _Their_ story, she realizes. “I wasn’t planning on being your friend. You were unexpected, but in the best way. That first interview, something you said… I just connected to it. And then you made me realize that I wanted to be a journalist. You made me feel seen, as Kara Danvers, and from the start, I was a little bit enamored by it.”

Lena watches Kara speak, an unreadable expression on her face.

“And then I brought Supergirl into the mix, and things got complicated. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have tried to make Supergirl part of your life too, because you’re right. That was wrong, pretending to be two different people. Then I made things even messier, and instead of facing my mistakes I… I ran from them. This whole time I’ve been running from all the mistakes I’ve made in our relationship instead of facing them. Being afraid of losing you wasn’t an excuse.”

Kara’s voice has a noticeable tremble now, and even though she’s trying her hardest to reign in her tears, a few still manage to escape. If she looked Lena in the eyes now, she’d find green eyes shimmering in a similar fashion.

“There is no explanation I could ever give you that would absolve me of what I’ve done Lena. I just… I need you to know that your feelings have never just been meaningless to me in all this. How you feel matters, and you are justified in how betrayed you feel. I can’t explain my reasons beyond that I was afraid to lose you, but I know my reasons don’t take away the hurt you feel, and I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Kara tugs at the ends of her sleeves again, pulling her legs up and crossing them on the couch as she looks anywhere but at Lena.

“I also need you to know…. In a lot of ways, I was more myself with you than I’ve ever been with anyone besides my sister. You really do mean the world to me, Lena. Our entire relationship was not a lie, I swear to you. But also… in a lot of _other_ ways, I kept part of myself closed off from you. Supergirl is a part of who I am, and I didn’t let you in so you could see that part of me.”

It’s difficult to condense three years of love and regret into a few minutes of talking, even if she spent several weeks -- _months_ , she remembers with a shiver -- preparing this exact speech. When she finishes, Lena doesn’t say anything for a long time and Kara, well, she can’t look anywhere except at the floor.

“Oh, darling,” Lena says finally, breaking the silence. “Please look at me.”

Slowly, Kara does as Lena says, raising her line of sight up to the brunette’s eyes.

“I’ve been watching the news,” Lena says.

Which is. Not what Kara was expecting? Her confusion must show, because Lena continues quickly.

“Ever since it all happened. There was coverage of that day, you know? I saw you flying at the Anti-Monitor… and I know what someone looks like when they’re ready to give it all up. You didn’t think you were going to come back from that fight, and then you did. But I… and forgive me for speculating but… I think there was a part of you that was,” Lena pauses, sighs, then bites the bullet. “You would’ve been relieved if that was it, because of everything else that happened.”

“That’s not… I would never --”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Kara. You don’t have to explain anything that you don’t want to. But I’ve been watching the news, and I’ve noticed that you haven’t been the same since the crisis. You’ve been off, I could see it.” She touches Kara’s arm lightly, unsure as she says it. Like she wants to initiate but doesn’t know how she’ll be received. “I didn’t want to admit that I was worried, so I put it out of mind. And then I got your call.”

She knows the rest, of course. Even in the haze of confusion the alien cannon had thrusted her into, she couldn’t forget a moment of being touched and talked to by Lena after weeks -- _months_ \-- of radio silence.

“I didn’t come here to end our relationship once and for all. I came here to talk, but also to listen. To do it the right way like I should’ve done from the beginning.”

Kara can hardly believe her ears. She hadn’t dared hoped for this much, and part of her honestly wonders if she’s about to wake up and find this all to be one more tantalizing, cruel dream.

“But I’ve been watching the news… and I’ve seen how different you’ve been lately. I know things must have been hard for you. You saw everything disappear, and we were already on such poor terms by that point. Alex said that you’ve been rash, reckless, and I just have to ask why. And please, don’t lie to me. I’m here on good faith, I need you to be honest with me.”

Kara’s caught off guard, which might kind of be the point. But Lena is laid bare in front of her, offering her a chance which is more precious of a gift than Kara could’ve hoped for. Even as the Paragon of Hope. All she’s asking for is honesty, and Kara will not deny her that.

“I went to Hell.”

She doesn’t even believe in any Hell. There was no such concept taught in Raoism, and even after being adopted by the Danvers, Kara was pleased to learn that there wasn’t any physical place of that sort in their faith either (one thing that brought Kara some small bit of comfort in her first few months on Earth). She knows she did not go to any physical manifestation of Hell, but the pocket they’d found themselves in, outside of time and space when _there was no time and space left_ … that was as close to an eternity of suffering that she could imagine. Solitude rooted itself in each Paragon, in their very cells. The last living things to escape the Anti-Monitor, now trapped in the one place he couldn’t reach. The demons that tormented each of them came from within, given free reign in a place that was seemingly designed to allow them to thrive, but they were the Paragons. They were not allowed to give up. They were the last hope of an already dead multiverse.

“Hell might not be real, but I went there anyway. And then I came back from it, and the world was just… here again. Spinning like it always has, but everything was still stopped for me. When Alex told me we were friends again in this reality, I didn’t totally believe it, and then it turned out you knew everything anyway. I’ve been trying to understand how I pick up the pieces, but the only thing I kept coming back to is all the mistakes I’ve made. Facing down villains comes a lot easier to me than figuring out that whole mess, so that’s what I’ve been trying to focus on. Too hard, maybe. So I’ve been fighting a lot of crime, not going to many briefings, and not really caring when I got hurt.”

“Well, I suppose none of us are immune to unhealthy coping mechanisms and internalizing our trauma. Even all-powerful aliens,” Lena says with an encouraging chuckle that the situation does _not_ call for but which Kara is grateful for nonetheless. It helps her as she continues.

“Hurting you… was one of the worst things I’ve ever done, ever. During the crisis, there were moments when I felt like all my mistakes outweighed every good thing I’ve tried to do since becoming Supergirl. Becoming Supergirl was supposed to be about using what I can do to help people, but you’re right. I hurt you as Supergirl so many times, when I was supposed to be your best friend.”

Kara’s tears fall in earnest now, and she doesn’t bother wiping them away. She has no defense against the truth, against how much she fucked up.

“And I just keep thinking, if I can hurt my best friend like that, then I’m not the person I thought I was,” Kara continues. “And I’ve been trying to come to terms with how badly I messed everything up, and in the wake of the crisis… I haven’t been handling it well.”

Lena’s silent, captivated by Kara’s speech.

“I should have been better. You deserved _so much better_ , and I’m so sorry I failed you the way I did,” Kara says quietly, closing her eyes. “You deserved the truth years ago. 

The silence stretches for what feels like hours, on and one, until Lena breaks it.

“I haven’t been fair to you.”

Kara’s eyes snap open and land on Lena, who is looking anywhere but back at Kara.

“I burned every bridge without hearing you out, and after everything we’ve been through… you deserved better than that from me. You owed me the truth, but I owed you a conversation before walking away. And… I think if I had been… willing to have this conversation months ago when I first found out… I wouldn’t have made the decisions I made.” Lena’s words are halting, but now that she’s started she can’t stop. “The weight of the world isn’t yours to bear alone, Kara. You aren’t the only one who’s made awful mistakes.”

“ _No_ , Lena, you were hurting--”

“Please Kara, let me say this,” Lena implores, finally meeting Kara’s gaze. Her green eyes are overly bright and Kara wants to brush the tears away, erase the pain left behind in the wake of all this devastation and misery. “I put you up on a pedestal. As Kara, as Supergirl, and... when Lex told me they were one and the same… it all came crashing down on top of me.”

Kara flinches, despite the lack of malice in Lena’s words.

“And,” Lena swallows, collecting yourself, “and I don’t think I realized exactly what you meant to me until that moment. That I loved you in a way that I couldn’t…”

Kara can see the fight raging behind Lena’s eyes, like she’s trying to come to a decision. Then, the brunette reaches her hands toward Kara, slowly, as if Kara might reject her. When Lena’s hands are a scant few centimeters from Kara’s face, Kara can’t help but lean the rest of the way into Lena’s touch. Lena cups her cheeks, soft and gentle, and Kara can’t help but let out a shaky breath at it because Lena hasn’t touched her like this in months. Even for all those weeks where Kara thought everything was fine between them, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it she’d seen how much more reserved Lena has been in her physical contact with Kara. Now, though, she’s all gentleness as she slowly wipes away Kara’s tears with her thumbs.

“I loved you in a way I couldn’t accept anymore, because I thought it was all a lie,” Lena says. “But someone once told me that if I want to be trusted and accepted, then I must also trust. And that means letting myself believe you really never meant to hurt me, that lying may have been part of it, but that doesn’t mean it was _all_ a lie. And… it means apologizing for all the wrong I’ve done in the wake of everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kara says, because she really can’t believe what she’s hearing. She hadn’t expected this turn.

“I absolutely do, Kara,” Lena says. “I reacted emotionally, did terrible things, and people got hurt. You, most of all. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, and you shouldn’t have to carry the weight of so many mistakes when a lot of that burden should be mine. I’m so, _so_ sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but maybe…” Lena trails off, as if she can’t bring herself to ask for such a precious gift as forgiveness. Lena’s hands drop from Kara’s cheeks and Kara immediately feels the loss.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be about deserving it,” Kara says, reaching out to retrieve Lena’s hands, grasping them tightly. “I forgive you, Lena. For all of it.”

“Just like that?” Lena’s voice is thick with disbelief, like she can’t believe her ears. “Even after everything?”

“This all started with me. If I had told you who I was the moment I realized I wanted you in my life forever, you would’ve known who I am all this time. I would’ve told you after you were accused of helping Cadmus and we proved you innocent. Then maybe none of this would’ve happened. I take responsibility for that, and I can’t ask you to forgive me, but I swear that if you do forgive me I will do better. _Be_ better. I promise, Lena.”

Lena’s looking at her again like she’s deciding something important, and Kara feels something -- she’s not sure what it is or even _how_ she feels it -- shift between them in that moment. But _Lena_ , Lena’s looking at her like the sun and moon and stars have just finally returned to her after being wiped from the sky. Like Kara is all the light Lena’s ever needed and Kara is breathless with it, but nothing can compare to what happens next.

Lena is leaning toward her, slowly, like she’s expecting Kara to retreat the closer she gets. Kara, though, doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t budge from her spot. She’s frozen.

“Stop me if this isn’t something you want,” Lena whispers, before closing the distance between their faces and pressing her lips to Kara’s.

Lena’s lips are soft, and the kiss is almost shy at first. Then, Lena’s mouth moves against hers, quiet and insistent and _perfect_. This kiss is something Kara’s never experienced before. Never has anything caused such warmth to blossom in her chest and fill her body until she’s hungry for more. She presses back against Lena, bringing her hands up to cup Lena’s face and bring her body closer. Kara’s tongue swipes against Lena’s lower lip, demanding access that Lena readily gives, and the kiss turns hot and open-mouthed. The soft moan that hums from the brunette’s throat ignites a fire in Kara that overcomes everything else. Suddenly everything is Lena, Lena, _Lena_. She wants to be closer, wants more, and Kara can’t fathom how in the world it took them so long to reach this moment. How has she never realized how much she wanted this, to kiss Lena? To have Lena’s body pressed against her with all the warmth it brings? It’s like the floodgates have opened, and Kara is ravenous. Lena pushes impossibly closer, hooking her arms around Kara’s neck and climbing onto Kara’s lap, deepening the kiss and burning this moment in both of their memories forever.

The fire is broken when Kara hisses and Lena immediately pulls back in concern, putting space between them that Kara instantly wants to close again, despite the pain that just erupted in her abdomen.

“Sorry,” Kara says around a wince. “I’m still pretty sore.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Lena says breathlessly, her lipstick smeared over her mouth in a way that captivates Kara like nothing else. The sight sends a shiver through her that settles between her legs and is entirely too distracting. The warm smiles that touches upon Lena’s face, though, seals the deal: Kara is completely gone for Lena.

“I may have let myself get a bit carried away,” Lena says, getting up and smoothing out the newly formed rumples in her suit.

“Stay?”

Kara asks the question tentatively, catching her hand like Lena might disappear again if she lets her out of her sight. Lena only smiles.

“Of course, I dare say we have a lot more to discuss now.”

Her voice is soft, a whisper of some truth they’ve both finally accepted, but this one doesn’t feel heavy. It’s not a weight for them to bear, it’s something they’ve both been waiting for. The mattress shifts as Lena climbs back in, the warm weight of her body in close proximity to Kara’s sending the latter’s heart fluttering.

“I meant what I said, that I want you in my life forever. And... I know everything isn’t fixed between us…” Kara starts, but Lena hushes her, squeezing Kara’s hand and imparting all the reassurance Kara needs that they’re on the right path again.

“But it’s a start.”

Lena says it like it’s the simplest matter in the world, that they’re going to be completely fine when only days ago she didn’t know if Lena would ever speak to her again. However, when she asks shyly if Lena would like to stay and watch a movie in bed, Lena takes the offered pair of Kara’s pajamas with a soft smile that fills Kara with so much certainty in their inevitability. As the night carries on and the movie credits roll, and she shifts to hold Lena close to her as they drift off to sleep, she thinks maybe it really can be this simple. That it might all just… work out. Then, when Kara wakes the next morning to find the sun peeking over the horizon and bathing her loft in an array of warm pink and golden hues that fall across Lena’s peaceful form, she feels nothing but the comforting breath of hope.

She rouses herself slowly so as not to wake Lena, moving to stand fully in the sunlight. The DEO sunbeds do the job, but nothing compares to the real deal. She loves the way the rays encompasses her, work their way into her cells like a comforting blanket. She can feel the way it energizes her, and she notices no trace of the pain she’d felt only hours ago. A quick test hover a few feet above the floor tells her that her powers are finally fully restored, her injuries nothing but memories.

She sets up the espresso maker and sends off a quick text to Alex, who she knows is likely on her morning jog. It’s just a request for lunch, but it’s more than she’s done since… well, since _before_. When Alex replies in under a minute, confirming lunch at Noonan’s, Kara feels her shoulders relax. She sighs, content.

That is, until she notices the subtle change in the steady heartbeat behind her. Turning, she finds green eyes peering at her blearily, blinking against the bright rays of the morning sun.

“I smell coffee,” Lena yawns out, stretching and sitting up in the bed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude last night by falling asleep --”

“I always want you here, Lena,” Kara says, smiling softly and pouring Lena a cup of espresso. She settles back in the bed beside her, handing the brunette the mug and watching as she takes light sips. Her brain hasn’t quite caught up to the reality that Lena is _here_ , that she’s staying and she wants to rebuild what they lost. “It means a lot, you being here with me.”

The look Lena gives her is pensive, like she’s thinking the same thing as Kara. It’s confirmed a moment later when Lena speaks. “I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I’m tired of waiting for the other shoe,” Kara says, and Lena doesn’t miss the strain in her voice. “I did enough waiting.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Lena asks, brows knitted together in concern. “You don’t have to, of course.”

“No I… I think that’s a good idea.”

But as soon as Kara opens her mouth, the words die in her throat and shame bubbles in her chest, thick and hot and full of accusations at herself. _And the Paragon of Hope has lost hers_ , she remembers Ryan muttering to himself as he wrote his final journal entry. Lena senses her distress and reacts immediately, moving closer to her and putting a comforting hand over Kara’s. It’s then that Kara realizes her hands are clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles are white from the strain.

“Kara, it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

She rubs her thumbs soothingly over Kara’s knuckles until the tension is released. Kara sighs, tired but grateful.

“When I woke up on my couch after, it was like no time had passed. Because none had,” Kara begins tentatively. “In the Vanishing Point, time doesn’t exist the way it does on Earth. We were there alone, for months.”

Kara hears the soft gasp, feels the hands covering hers tighten for a moment then relax. She hadn’t divulged this information before, how long she and the other Paragons had actually been trapped in that place. Kara can’t stop now that she’s started, though.

“J’onn spent the first few days reaching out with his mind, looking for any kind of sign that the multiverse wasn’t gone. He didn’t find anything, so he meditated,” Kara says, remembering the way J’onn couldn’t be roused from his place kneeling on the floor for hours, every day, for weeks on end. “I didn’t lose my powers there even though there was no sun, yellow or otherwise, to fuel them. I spent most of the time every day listening, trying to hear something besides the other Paragons and I. I knew I wouldn’t hear anything outside of the Vanishing Point even if there _was_ anything outside the Vanishing Point. Mostly, I just ended up listening to Lex, since he loved the sound of his own voice so much.” Kara cracks a smile even though the situation really does _not_ call for amusement. “I hope it’s not too soon to talk to you about this, but your brother wasn’t exactly my first choice in involuntary roommates.”

Lena laughs at that. “Understandable,” she says, and the two share a smile.

“After months of just sitting on the fact that everything was gone, we were finally able to fix it all. Sort of. And no one even knew anything ever happened even though everything was different,” Kara continues. “I spent all that time thinking and praying to Rao that if we were able to save everyone, then I’d find a way to fix the rest between you and me. And I will.”

The look Kara settles on Lena causes a wave of understanding to dawn in Lena’s eyes. “Kara, I forgive you. It’s okay.”

“Lena, you know as well as I do that forgiveness is a process, and one that I’m willing to work hard at,” Kara insists. “And if that means we hold off on… on defining what we are to each other, and not doing… _other stuff_ , then that’s okay.” She grimaces at her own wording, feeling a blush rising on her cheeks. Lena simply raises an eyebrow at the phrasing of “other stuff” before deliberating on a response.

“I don’t know, I quite liked the kissing,” Lena says, throwing Kara a smirk that sends heat blossoming up Kara’s chest and face.

“Me too, but I want to do this right,” Kara insists, earnest and hating every moment of it because now she’s thinking about her lips against Lena’s, and it’s _consuming_ her.

“Then I propose that once we leave this apartment, we hold off on _us_ until we can figure out how to _be us_ again. Until then, we are free to do as we like. How does that sound?”

The way she says it, cocking an eyebrow while her pupils darken dangerously, triggers something in Kara. The blush dies on her face, replaced with that steely Supergirl-esque bravado.

“Depends, how long do you have before you have to leave?” she asks, low and rough. Lena responds immediately, beckoning the blonde towards her.

“I can have my schedule cleared for the day.”

Lena barely has time to send off the message from her phone to have her day cleared before Kara is on top of her, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses -- morning breath be damned -- into Lena’s mouth, down the sides of her neck, and onward.

It doesn’t feel like something they’re just getting out of their systems, but like the start of something new. And yeah, maybe Kara’s not fine yet. Maybe neither of them are, but she can at least see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

It looks bright.

**Author's Note:**

> this was sort of my reintroduction to writing since it’s been so long since i’ve posted anything, and also my excuse to write 22 pages of supercorp angst if i’m being honest
> 
> comments give me life, please indulge me
> 
> edit: also my tumblr is drunkbrainys go check it out and yell at me


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